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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24738946">The Many Times that Captain America's Butt was Saved by His Marketing Intern (or as Tony would say, Peter was all over that)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dioxazine/pseuds/dioxazine'>dioxazine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - Peter is a college intern at SI, Asking for a friend it’s purely hypothetical don’t be mad but there are flight records, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Brief mentions of Bucky and Darcy, But really they're doodles, Captain America is an Influencer, Embedded Images, Fanart, Hey Pepper would illegally crossing a border with a willing sex partner still be sex trafficking, Immigration, Intern Peter Parker, M/M, Mentions of criminalized homosexuality abroad, Mysterious YouTube video of Man With A Pan, Pansexual Peter Parker, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve and Bucky are sadly platonic, Tony what have you done?, circus folk - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:46:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24738946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dioxazine/pseuds/dioxazine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aunt May keeps trying to help with Peter's college tuition when he just wishes she'd focus on paying her rent.</p><p>Every summer since high school he's worked two part time jobs to try to keep her from making up what his scholarships won't cover. </p><p>But now it's junior year, Peter's last chance to get an internship to pad his resume, and there's only one place in town that pays big bucks for business interns: Stark Industries.</p><p>But you can't list "bad guy punching" as an extracurricular leadership role and his GPA is gonna send him to the bottom of the pile, so Peter kind of... fibs, a little. He's Spidey's Instagram account guy and occasional manager, not, you know, Spidey himself.</p><p>But fake it till you make it might not have been the best strategy because Captain America wants to be an Influencer and now Tony thinks Peter's the perfect guy for the job.</p><p>(And weirdly, no one seems to notice that around superheroes, Peter loses the ability to speak without at least one foot firmly in his mouth. Shouldn't that be a giveaway that he's not Superhero Influencer Marketing Management Potential?!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Never Meet Your Heroes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony Stark’s suit was a much more matte fabric than the one Peter Parker was wearing. The billionaire seemed to be eyeing Peter’s pinstriped polyester warily.</p><p>The suit was a bit shiny now, especially at the elbows, and after his freshman year growth spurt the suit he’d gotten only three months earlier for high school graduation was a bit short in the legs. And the arms. A little tight across the shoulders too. And the inseam was uncomfortable.</p><p>But it was all he could afford, even now, after junior year.</p><p>Mr. Stark cleared his throat. “You were the best candidate for this position by far.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”</p><p>The mouth amidst the carefully trimmed facial hair flattened into a thin line. “Let’s go with Tony.”</p><p>“Tony?”</p><p>“My name. Like, you Peter, me Tony.”</p><p>“Oh, uh, okay. Thanks, Tony.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Tony crossed his legs, draping one ankle just over his knee so that his legs were spread wide in the tiny armchair. His suspended ankle was jittery, bouncing at a frenetic pace. Tony Stark wanted to be somewhere else. Maybe anywhere else.</p><p>“Why are you doing intern onboarding?” Peter asked. “You have like, a million more worthwhile things to do.”</p><p>Tony snorted. “Right? But you’re special. You’re gonna be working directly with Cap.”</p><p>Peter blinked. “What?”</p><p>“You have experience with superheroes. We want to license a few limited runs of merchandise, maybe an official Twitter account, and a few sponsored products for Captain America.”</p><p>What. “Captain America wants to be an influencer?”</p><p>Tony rubbed his temples. “Look, never, ever say it that way to him, but yes. The guy’s such a bleeding heart it’s a miracle of science that he still has a pulse. He brings abandoned puppies home weekly, the locals are stuffing trees full of cats to try to meet him, and he can’t stop donating all the money from his trust.”</p><p>Peter’s eyebrows were practically in his hairline. “He’s broke? I thought that…”</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, despite the miracle of 70 years of compounding interest, if we hadn’t set up an emergency trust to limit his philanthropic check-writing, he’d be on his knees in an all…” Tony trailed off for a moment, eyes narrowing. “How old are you, kid?”</p><p>“20.”</p><p>Tony nodded. “Got it, no alcohol around the intern. Okay. So, orientation?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Before he fully thought it through, Peter answered. “Pan. Or bi works, too.”</p><p>Now Tony was blinking. “I meant, like, let’s go together for the legal paperwork portion of the intern orientation program. It’s pretty easy but I’ll likely keep up a steady stream of oversharing and TMI while you’re trying to read the fine print. Seems like you might be a little more familiar with word vomit than our average intern, though.”</p><p>Peter could feel how red his face had gotten, as if his entire head had just swollen into a painful zit of misery.</p><p>Tony patted his shoulder, not unkindly. “But I have a feeling you’re just what the Cap needs.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Not all heroes can bake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter’s first week was rough. He didn’t get to meet Captain America until Tuesday morning and by the time he was on the elevator up to meet his new boss, an alarm was sounding.</p><p>He stepped out into a large, open plan living room with an incredible view of the skyline, just as a bedroom door swung shut.</p><p>“The Captain has been called away by an emergency situation.” A disembodied voice spoke over his head. Tony had introduced him to JARVIS the day before, but Peter still jumped a little. “Sir hopes that this situation will not last long and that you will be able to use this time to complete your Welcome to Stark Industries corporate culture and emergency evacuation plan.”</p><p>Why was that one document? Then Peter remembered Tony’s ever-present smirk and realized that it was a joke. Maybe a little twisted, but still a joke.</p><p>Then something told him to MOVE. He jumped backward with preternatural speed, and it was good that he had because he just missed being demolished by Captain America, in full uniform, running for the elevator.</p><p>The doors were open already, so all Peter got was a quick glimpse of his ass in tight blue material.</p><p>“Are you the intern?” Captain America shouted, but the doors closed before Peter could answer.</p><p>Well. Peter pulled the heavy packet out from his bookbag and sat down in the kitchen to read.</p><p>x.o.x.o.x</p><p>Tony had misjudged how long that particular mission would take, so he was in Captain America’s kitchen when the elevator doors quietly opened.</p><p>Peter had finished the packet before noon on Tuesday and without having yet been authorized to use his work email or even Stark Industries’ wifi, JARVIS had suggested that he make himself at home in the kitchen, cooking something for his Aunt but leaving some behind for Steve Rogers, who apparently always returned from missions famishing and grasping a bag of McDonald’s take out.</p><p>So Peter had been cooking for two days. What had once been a kitchen stocked with fresh ingredients was now a freezer stuffed with ready to bake homemade lasagna, a fridge full of Tupperware meals, and a counter covered in baked goods.</p><p>“JARVIS, what smells so good?” Rang a voice near the elevator. Peter poked his head around the partial divider wall and saw that Captain America had returned and was peeling away his hood. Captain America dropped a bag of fast food to the floor as JARVIS replied.</p><p>“I can’t answer that for sure. There are a host of freshly made meals in the kitchen and any one might be the source.”</p><p>“Hot darn!” Captain America beelined for the kitchen but not before sliding a hidden zipper down on the front of the uniform and peeling it off so that it hung like a half-discarded wetsuit from his waist.</p><p>Peter’s eyes widened. He realized he was staring and his heart thudded and he darted back into the safety of the kitchen, irrationally looking for somewhere to hide.</p><p>Captain America tore into the kitchen, eyes running over the various deserts and a smile spread so wide across his face he looked like a nerdy kid being dropped off at Space Camp. “Oh, uh, hello.” He said when he saw that Peter was also in his kitchen.</p><p>“Hi, boss!” There might have been more graceful ways to remind Captain America that Peter was his new, and still unintroduced, marketing intern.</p><p>“I’m the intern.” In Peter’s defense, Captain America’s golden hair in the late afternoon sunlight of the kitchen, combined with his broad and perfect exposed chest, meant that not all of the blood Peter usually kept within his brain was still there.</p><p>Captain America’s eyes had flicked back to the food instead of his intern, and Peter watched in fascination as a blush crossed the perfect bridge of his nose at the visible effort it took for him to tear his eyes from the stove top. “I’m Steve Rogers, it’s nice to meet you.”</p><p>They shook hands, and Peter must have stammered out his name, too.</p><p>“Please just call me Steve, Peter, we don’t rely on formality much around here.” He sniffed. “Is that SOS?”</p><p>He was staring at Peter’s latest creation, a version of a recipe he and JARVIS had found when trying to decide what Capta—Steve had eaten in his youth. SOS — creamed chipped dried beef over toast was undoubtedly familiar given that it had been an army staple, but it had sounded so boring that Peter had decided to pour it over a Korean fried scallion pancake instead.</p><p>He had been intending to test it before his boss returned, figuring if it wasn’t a good combination he could eat the elements separately.</p><p>Steve’s eyes had gone puppy dog soft. “Is it ready yet?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Peter nearly knocked over a banana cake in his haste to grab a plate. “Yeah, yeah, I was gonna put it over a mashed potato type version of a Korean style green onion pancake and…” He glanced back and Steve seemed like the wasn’t listening at all, eyes glued to the pan. “Let me just dish you this out.”</p><p>Steve had eaten the whole thing before Peter finished dishing out his own serving, so he passed that plate to Steve also. Captain America tried to protest a little.</p><p>“Dude, you’ve been gone for how long? Just eat it, you’ve got to be starving.”</p><p>“Thanks, Peter, I think another Quarter Pounder might just have done me in.” He grinned and Peter’s stomach fluttered. He switched into Official Captain America PSA voice: “Not all heroes wear capes.”</p><p>Peter grinned, half blushing, half reflecting that Steve didn’t know how true that was in his case.</p><p>Steve was about 85% positive that Peter had been specifically chosen to torment him rather than for his vast troves of marketing expertise. Not that Peter wasn’t a sharp fella, he was just young, attractive, flexible, a great cook, attractive, and every time Tony brought up his new intern, you could see his eyes glint with mischief.</p><p>Only Tony and Thor knew that Steve was also attracted to men, after a rather patchy night of imbibing Asgard’s finest mead. Apparently they’d been swapping raunchy tales and Steve had been impaired enough to forget that waxing poetic about men’s asses wasn’t particularly subtle.</p><p>In the morning, Thor had tried to give him a pep talk that he hadn’t quite understood. It had relied heavily on a metaphor about “traveling the Rainbow Road.” When Thor nodded his head in satisfaction and departed, clearly convinced he’d made everything better, Tony and Steve had been left staring at each other in confusion.</p><p>“Did Thor just reveal that he’s also had homosexual encounters and encourage you to explore your body or was that a weird but more literal invitation to visit Asgard?” Tony asked, waving a little toward the door.</p><p>“I’m not sure it was either.”</p><p>And then, two weeks later, Steve suddenly had an attractive young intern sitting in his living room for 40 hours a week. Steve had almost convinced himself it was a coincidence when he realized that JARVIS was in on the plot.</p><p>Beyond walking in on Peter in his kitchen, cooking some of his favorite foods (While SOS had never been a favorite in the past the green onion pancake version was now) Peter had also taken fashion advice from JARVIS and started wearing tight Henleys and black skinny jeans around his apartment. And JARVIS suggested a better conditioner and a barber. Peter even smelled better, some subtle cologne wafting behind him that Steve couldn’t place but was rapidly becoming obsessed with identifying. JARVIS no doubt had a disembodied hand in that, too.</p><p>x.o.x.o.x</p><p>On Wednesday of the second week, he’d gone into his room to grab a better pencil and come out to overhear Peter protesting that there was no need for him to bring a toothbrush and an extra set of clothes over.</p><p>“This is an internship, not a sleepover, JARVIS.”</p><p>“Yes, but it is an Internship in Stark Tower, Peter. Since this Tower went online, it has been under attack in 14 separate incidents. In the event that you should need to shelter here for an extended time, it would be good to be prepared.”</p><p>Peter was silent for a moment. “I’ll think about it.” He said then.</p><p>When Peter asked the next day if it was okay if he left a small backpack with some emergency stuff in it in Steve’s closet, Steve realized he was going to have to have a talk with Tony.</p><p>Whether the mastermind was JARVIS or Tony, he wouldn’t put it past either of them to fake a security breach at this point.</p><p>Still, later that night while his apartment was quiet, he wondered what it would be like if Peter were standing next to him as they brushed their teeth before bed. He lay staring at the ceiling, imagining it as he drifted off. For the first time in a long time, he slept through the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Peter's First Save</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Friday, Peter spent the morning outlining his revised marketing plan (version 3.1, now) with Steve.</p><p>Which meant that Peter was pitching a series of ideas that Steve would quietly listen to as he doodled, and then shoot down with some annoyingly good insight. Luckily, by now he knew to draft a whole host of different ideas, so Steve’s insights could improve the best of them.</p><p>But he kept getting distracted. God, Steve had beautiful hands. Those fingers were long and thin but strong and just so perfect that it was unsurprising that art burst forth from them whenever he held a pencil.</p><p>Steve picked up his phone as Peter scrambled to gather his thoughts and record one of Steve’s suggestions.</p><p>Peter shouldn’t be staring maybe, but even watching those artist hands fly over the keyboard of a Starkphone screen was hypnotizing.</p><p>Steve clicked into Instagram and it asked him to sign in again, even though he’d signed in only yesterday. Peter’s eyes sharpened in alarm. Steve typed in 9 characters: P - a - s - s - w - 0 - r - d - !</p><p>“Steve!” The bigger blond man nearly dropped his phone. “What’s your password?”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be a secret, even from marketing interns.” Steve could be a real sasshole at times, Peter was coming to understand. Usually he would have found it charming. This was not one of those times.</p><p>“Give me that.” Peter flipped through to Account Activity to see login data. “Steve, you’re signed into 141 devices.”</p><p>“What?” Steve was standing behind him, suddenly so close that his breath was stirring the hair on the top of Peter’s head and he was NOT thinking about how he could nearly feel Steve’s body behind him, every nerve ending in his back on full alert. “I only have a phone and a computer. What are the other 139 devices?”</p><p>“JARVIS, will you tell Tony that Steve’s Instagram account has been compromised? Maybe by around 140 different people or groups?” Peter managed to keep his voice from cracking despite the feel of Captain America’s breath against his skin.</p><p>“Alerting him now.” JARVIS sounded tense for an AI.</p><p>Not two minutes later, the elevator doors opened and Tony strode out, shouting about brute force hacks and Rainbow cracking. Steve’s eyes glazed over instantly, only briefly sparking when Tony mentioned THC Hydra. But he’d gone back into mindlessly nodding at pauses in Tony’s rant when he realized Tony was listing malicious software and not international terrorist sleeper cells.</p><p>Peter used this time to order a hardbound password notebook and paid the fee for one hour delivery with his new company card.</p><p>When the package arrived, Steve had given up on listening blankly to Tony, hoping he would shut up. The two men were now circling each other, shouting, and their body-language suggested they were about to tear each other limb from limb. And given their muscular bodies, that was a more credible risk than in the average argument. Right now, Tony was shouting about getting a Yubikey.</p><p>“You can put it on your keychain!” Tony was shouting, spittle flying.</p><p>“I don’t even have any damned keys, Tony! JARVIS scans my face and lets me in! You think my skin tight armor has POCKETS?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>JARVIS had announced that the front desk was bringing up a package a few minutes ago, but they must not have noticed. When a young woman stepped through the elevator doors, both Tony and Steve looked startled.</p><p>Peter took the package, thanking her and trying to give her a smile that might be reassuring. Her eyes flicked between the two panting, irate superheroes and she fled.</p><p>Ripping the box open, he thrust the notebook at them. “Compromise? Steve can set incredibly difficult passwords and 2FA, leave his password book here, read it if he forgets one, and no one will ever be able to steal his password book because it’s in StarkTower, which is more secure than a bank vault.”</p><p>The men stared at him for a moment. Steve’s face broke out in a grin first.</p><p>“Works for me.” Steve said. “You too, Tony?”</p><p>Tony harrumphed a bit, something about RFID and a geofence on the book, but: “Yeah, that’ll work, since you don’t have pockets.”</p><p>Once Tony left, Peter gathered his things to head home. As he headed for the elevator, Steve called out. “Hey, I’m sorry I acted like that in front of you.” He was shaking his head. “On your second week, nonetheless.”</p><p>Peter shrugged. “It’s cool, everyone hates passwords. They suck for anyone.”</p><p>“Well,” the elevator doors opened. “Thanks. I’m glad you… uh, stay safe. On your way home.”</p><p>Peter stepped into the elevator, his heart fluttering a little. “Thanks, you too.”</p><p>They stared at each other unblinking until the doors closed.</p><p>You too? Peter thought when he was alone in the metal box. The man was standing in his own living room. This internship was gonna be the death of him.</p><p>But he had a silly grin on his face, remembering the way grateful way Steve had smiled at him. Even if it killed Peter, this internship might not be a bad way to go.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Catching Fury's Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One week later they’d accomplished very little beyond stocking all the Avenger’s freezers with retro re-heatable home cooked meals. Steve was coming back from a training session on some sort of sadistic obstacle course and he’d video called Peter on the way home to make up for being late.</p>
<p>“So, Pepsi wants you to do an ad for them.” Peter said as he was stirring together the beginnings of a casserole. He was uncomfortable bringing this topic up, but it was a lucrative deal. “Coke said they’re willing to more than double whatever Pepsi offers but they’re insisting that you nix the blue.”</p>
<p>Steve peered into his Starkphone camera, clearly startled. “The blue on my uniform?”</p>
<p>Peter nodded, uneasy. “I hope you don’t mind but I told them the blue was non- negotiable.”</p>
<p>Steve shook his head as his camera got a bit darker. He must have just entered the lobby. “Am I getting this right? Coca-cola is trying to pay me to drop the blue from Red White and Blue? They want me to edit the colors of the American flag?” Steve was clearly aghast.</p>
<p>“Yes. I tried to explain your… theme. But they kept insisting your uniform is Pepsi branded.”</p>
<p>There was a metallic ring from the speaker of Peter’s phone suddenly. From the sudden chaos of the phone screen, Peter realized Steve’s shield had clocked one of the large, modern concrete planters in the lobby so hard it cracked and dirt had tumbled across the marble of the lobby.</p>
<p>“Sorry!” He shouted reflexively, probably to whoever would be tasked with cleaning his mess. But this was Stark Tower, so it would be a robot, not that even that made Steve less polite. He was always attempting small talk with non-verbal programming.</p>
<p>“Pepsi colors my butt.” Peter thought he heard Steve muttering. Helplessly, Peter’s brain launched into 3-D images of Steve’s ass from every angle in his tight blue uniform, and when the elevator doors opened and Steve stepped into the living room, both men were blushing.</p>
<p>x.o.x.o.x</p>
<p>Peter wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it when Steve caught him rolling around on the couch, laughter echoing through the living room. It had been a while, for sure, since he couldn’t stop the tears sliding down his face.</p>
<p>“What’s so funny?” Steve had his shield at the ready on his arm, and was standing in the doorway as if he’d run out to investigate Peter’s noises.</p>
<p>“You…” Peter wanted to explain. He tried to calm down, focus on his breathing, but every time he thought he had the laughter under control, that image flashed through his mind and he lost it again.</p>
<p>“I’m what’s funny?” Steve pointed at his chest and tilted his head, like a confused puppy, shield at his side now, and that set Peter off again.</p>
<p>He gave Steve his phone, making sure it was unlocked as he gasped out, “LOOK.”</p>
<p>“What is this?” The Coke email was on screen, the negotiations more fierce now that Pepsi was floating rumors they’d snagged Captain America and seen a 3 point bump in their stock price. Steve’s eyes were flicking over the dense text of the email.</p>
<p>“They’re sending mockups of an alternative flag-based uniform that doesn’t use blue?” Steve looked at Peter. “How…?”</p>
<p>“Look, look at the attachment.” Peter wiped at his eyes desperately. He needed to watch Steve’s face as he took in all the old glory of this striped-spangled new uniform.</p>
<p>Steve clicked, and there was a moment’s pause before his jaw dropped. “This is…”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“An abomination?” Peter was laughing again, wishing he had a second phone to capture the expression on Steve’s face right now. “Keep scrolling, though, there’s an artist rendition of the back view.”</p>
<p>Steve looked at his eager face suspiciously. “How could this be worse? This looks like a candy cane costume for a broke and life-hating actor to wear while dancing around behind Santa Claus.”</p>
<p>Peter was howling. “It’s…” more laughter and Peter wheezed, “Butt!”</p>
<p>“But what?” Steve was scrolling. “Oh. It’s my BUTT.”</p>
<p>The artist must have had a crush on Captain America. There was no other explanation to the drawing devoted to how the red and white bars of this new costume would lovingly encase and highlight the peach-shaped curves of Captain America’s round bottom. Steve looked deeply disturbed.</p>
<p>Peter was lost. He was laughing so hard he had to completely focus on not pissing, regretting that last Dr. Pepper. He thought he heard the sound of his phone plopping down on the couch next to him.</p>
<p>“Peter,” Steve was saying his name, so he managed to crack one eye open. “If Tony sees this, it’s your head.”</p>
<p>A week later when a spandex candy cane zentai suit and a professionally printed wall calendar full of 12 Photoshopped images of Steve posing in suggestive but still vaguely candy-cane like stances showed up with the daily mail, Peter had to swear up and down that he hadn’t told Tony.</p>
<p>They initially suspected JARVIS had tattled, but Tony later revealed he’d been contacted by a Coke executive directly. Apparently the company’s CMO hadn’t taken kindly to being rejected via email by a mere intern, and had tried to go over Peter’s head. And had tried to get Peter fired at the same time.</p>
<p>MJ rode the subway 12 stops to egg the CMO’s suburban mansion but she gleefully reported via Snap that apparently, Tony had left his mark first. Peter saved the images with a smile. Friends who had your back like MJ always did were damn rare. And now Tony was in those ranks, too.</p>
<p>x.o.x.o.x</p>
<p>“You spent two days programing evasive maneuvers into your floor-dusting robots so that they could project larger than life dancing male buttocks onto the surface of a tacky mansion using still-classified laser technology capable of projecting images further than the moon.”</p>
<p>Fury had called Tony, Steve, and Peter in and sat them down for a long lecture. This last sentence seemed to be a final summary of the situation meant to emphasize the ill conceived nature of Tony’s actions.</p>
<p>But Tony only beamed in pride. “The evasive programming is very salable. Three hours of every Taskrabbit and Rentacop in a ten mile radius chasing those bots with pillowcases and crowbars and every single bot reported home right on schedule.”</p>
<p>Peter thought it was lucky Nick had lost an eye. If his death stare were even slightly more intense, all the superpowers in the world wouldn’t save them. As it was, his hands were shaking.</p>
<p>Steve’s eyes flicked over toward him for a moment. “I don’t know why you called Peter in, he didn’t do anything wrong.”</p>
<p>Fury’s eye was suddenly on Peter and if he’d thought earlier that he couldn’t possibly be more uncomfortable, he realized he’d been wrong. “Peter, you’re a clever young man. You have a lot of potential.”</p>
<p>Fury had paused. Did he… want an answer? “Thanks?”</p>
<p>Fury’s arm and a single finger snapped out toward Tony. “Don’t become this guy.”</p>
<p>Tony was sputtering. “Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. The kid could do worse.”</p>
<p>Steve looked like he was beginning to lose the battle with laughter.</p>
<p>Then the overhead projector restarted, in the middle of last night’s news reports and Steve lost his war with stifling laughter as a mustached security guard tripped over a hippie with a pillowcase and a bot rolled over them both, beeping cheekily.</p>
<p>“OUT!” Shouted the aptly named Nick Fury.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Don't Worry; It Wasn't a Butt Dial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint intercepted the trio as they returned to the Tower, dropping down from a ventilation shaft with his question.</p><p>“So the butts? I get that, I think. But why were the butts striped?”</p><p>Tony, Steve, and Peter, all legal adults, and all three superheroes to varying degrees of secrecy, practically fell on each other laughing.</p><p>“I guess that they were Coke colors. And that stripe, too, the Coca-Cola stripe, what’s that called?”</p><p>“The Dynamic Ribbon.” Answered Nat suddenly from the shadows.</p><p>And everyone sobered up a bit, making a mental note to be a bit more aware of their surroundings.</p><p>x.o.x.o.x</p><p>Once they were back at Steve’s apartment, Peter texted Aunt May to say he’d be home a little late and they belatedly started cooking dinner.</p><p>“I know I’ve only been in this century for 14 months, but even I know that the last time Nick Fury was interested in someone’s marketing skills was, hm…” Steve paused stirring the fajita meat for dramatic effect, willing himself not to look at the younger man. “Never.”</p><p>Peter grimaced. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m happy to be on his radar.”</p><p>Steve inhaled, eyes on Peter for a long moment, ignoring the frying pan. “Anything you want to tell me?” Nick didn’t learn the names of interns.</p><p>“No.” Peter said. But Steve could hear a note of uncertainty in his voice that was unfamiliar.</p><p>“Okay.” Steve said, trying to hide the feeling he’d been shut out of something important. That Peter didn’t trust him.</p><p>He wasn’t as subtle as he’d hoped.</p><p>Peter watched Steve’s shoulders fall, reading his body language as clear disappointment.</p><p>Steve was disappointed in Peter, and that hurt. But what was he supposed to say? Captain America didn’t make universally-hated street vigilantes dinner.</p><p>They chatted about the direction Steve wanted to take his Instagram over their steaming food. The fajitas didn’t taste as good that day, after the reminder that neither of them really knew the other.</p><p>x.o.x.o.x</p><p>All weekend long, Steve kept thinking about his intern. Not that thinking about his intern was itself new, but the unease, the memory of Peter’s sudden inability to meet his eyes—that was new. And Steve didn’t like it.</p><p>Peter was amazing. The Amazing Marketing Intern. The college student. The can’t-yet-drink-good-lord-was-he-not-even-born-in-the-same-century-boy.</p><p>Steve knew he shouldn’t be thinking of him. Of how Peter remembered everything Steve ever said. How he cut his sandwiches diagonally after seeing that Steve did it that way. How Peter read all of the rules of cribbage and bought a board on iBay so that they could play. Steve wasn’t sure that Peter knew that he’s what Steve’s been drawing over and over these last few weeks, but he’s almost positive that he knows because it seems like Peter makes an effort to move less when Steve’s drawing him.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Steve has it bad. Tony knows. So Steve’s been avoiding Tony. Avoiding most people, really.</p><p>Except Nat, who might be getting a little sick of hearing about Peter, if that right hook she threw during their last sparring-slash-totally-not-therapy session was anything to go on. Panting, holding his face (was he bleeding?) they turned to each other and Natasha said: “Just make your move, Captain.”</p><p>And she stormed off.</p><p>Resolving not to think about Peter for the rest of the day, Steve went looking for his phone. It often had a few days of messages waiting for him to catch up on, a reliable distraction. When he picked it up, he had messages from “Peter’s Genius Friend” last name “MJ.”</p><p>Well.</p><p>The first one read: “Thanks for letting me program my number in your phone again.”</p><p>“I think I was specific enough, but just so you know, I’m his tall, dark, and intelligent bestie slash ex girlfriend.”</p><p>Ex girlfriend? Steve’s gut tightened a little bit. Shoot. What was that, like 3 minutes of not thinking about Peter? Maybe 4 of not dreaming about taking him out to dinner or strolling alongside a pond holding hands and feeding ducks? God, he really was an old man, wasn’t he?</p><p>But if Peter is straight then the age gap is irrelevant. Overshadowed. Doubly, triply, infinitely insurmountable.</p><p>Next message: “Peter’s the best guy I’ve ever known, but breaking up was good for both of us, I think. I think I needed to find California, and Peter needs to find himself.”</p><p>“You’re great for him, I can tell already. He’s glowing.”</p><p>“You should take him to H Mart, it’s near your place and it’s a good, safe, neutral kind of outing. If you haven’t already asked him out. It has been like two days between each of my messages. I’m not even sure you’re getting these. Maybe Tony Stark intercepts all your messages. I wouldn’t put it past him; he’s like the golden calf of capitalism, right? All red with the blood of innocents and gold for greed? Now I’m on a watchlist.”</p><p>“Who am I kidding? I’ve been on a watchlist since Day 1. But Tony? Watch out, me, AOC, and socialism are coming for you, and we have can openers.”</p><p>By the end of the messages, Steve was literally LOL-ing (he learned that one last week) and realized he should probably reply so that Michelle didn’t continue sending threatening messages to Tony Stark through his phone.</p><p>“Hello Miss Jones. I assure you that your messages have not been intercepted and delayed. I am the delay in this system. It seems most people carry their device in their pocket but I often put mine down and forget about it for days. Unless it makes an alarm sound.”</p><p>There. That should reassure her.</p><p>“I’d ask you to prove you’re you, but I think you just did.” The phone vibrated slightly in his hand as Michelle replied before he could even get back to the home base.</p><p>Steve smiled. “Thank you for the recommendation. I will ask Peter to accompany me on Monday.”</p><p>x.o.x.o.x</p><p>After a weekend of late night web swinging, existential angst, and a particularly trashy feature in the Sunday edition of the Daily Bugle, Peter couldn’t be his normal chipper self at work. And much to his horror, Steve seemed determined to make whatever was bothering him better.</p><p>“We could put off the photos for a little while.” Steve said.</p><p>“Why? Your LinkedIn picture is a photo of a the front page of a newspaper and your thumb holding it, with emojis to hide Natasha and Tony’s faces.” Peter shook his head, remembering. “Who told you that was a good idea, anyway?”</p><p>“Tony edited it for me.” Steve said, sheepish. “In his defense, that was Month Two in this century and my selfies were worse.”</p><p>Peter wasn’t sure that was possible, but he let it slide. “It’s a bit overcast, so I’d have to drag out extra lighting to compensate if we took the photos now.” His weather app was predicting the cloud cover would break after lunch. “I guess we could do this afternoon instead. What were you thinking?”</p><p>“Michelle told me I should check out H Mart.”</p><p>“Yeah, MJ loves that place.” It was pretty cool, and within walking distance. They could get there and back and whip up some lunch by the time the sun emerged. Then it sunk in. “Wait, I only introduced you two last week, when did you talk?”</p><p>“I texted her.”</p><p>“What?” Peter blinked. MJ and he had broken it off when she left for UCSD. She’d joked that she was A-OK with bi, just not bicoastal. She’d been headed to UCSD—it had the highest ratio of women graduates in STEM.</p><p>Peter had been heartbroken at the time, unable to pay for tuition in California and his grades had been mediocre at best since he started nocturnal bad guy punching. But the time apart had made them realize that they were better at being friends than lovers and that they’d both been strangely relieved to dial back to a casual relationship.</p><p>She still drunk dials him stupid stuff, singing April Steven’s “Teach Me, Tiger” into his voice mail. He still mails her hair samples anytime he knocks a famous villain out. It works for them. So why did Peter suddenly feel jealous?</p><p>Steve shrugged. “She gave me her number, wanted to ask me about Hydra. She’s kind of gruesome.” He frowned for a moment.</p><p>Peter was still staring at him blankly.</p><p>“Oh, it’s not…” He fumbled. “It wasn’t a butt dial.”</p><p>Peter shook his head, confused for a moment. Then, slightly horrified: “Do you mean… booty call?”</p><p>“Maybe.” Steve said, not reassuringly. “There’s nothing like that. Between us. She’s young, too young, right?”</p><p>“She’s my age. 20.” Peter said.</p><p>“20 is too young.” Steve said.</p><p>“You’re what, 28? I mean, depending on how you count.” Peter did the math. “According to the half-plus-seven rule, you can date anyone 21 and up. She’s only like two months older than me, so she’ll be in your safe zone by October.”</p><p>“Let’s go.” Steve was gathering his things, phone in his pocket, his sunglasses.</p><p>Peter’s stomach had dropped at some point in this conversation. Too young.</p><p>In the elevator, Steve asked, “So your 21st birthday is in August? That’s coming up.”</p><p>“Yeah, the last day of the internship, actually. August 10th.”</p><p>“Oh, that soon?” The doors of the elevator opened and Tony was there, yelling at someone they couldn’t see but must have been displayed on the surface of his glasses, holding a huge bunch of pink balloons that said things like “bride to be” “I do crew” “same penis forever” and, horrifyingly, “I’m engaged, but my friends are easy”</p><p>They stepped out and helped Tony shove all of the balloon bouquet into his private elevator, while he continued shouting something about tasteful glassware.</p><p>As they stepped out on the street, Steve asked, “Does Tony know this is going to be your 21st birthday?”</p><p>Peter groaned. “Yeah, I think he knows.”</p><p>Steve laughed, and some of the awkwardness was gone. Peter pushed all the feelings he had about being too young for Steve by any method of counting Steve’s age and they started compiling a loose shopping list for H Mart.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Second Time Peter Saved Captain America's Ass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>H Mart took way, way longer than they’d anticipated. Steve had turned on his Starkphone’s AR translation tool and was reading every word on every other packet of Korean food. And Peter had run into an unpleasant high school memory.</p>
<p>“So you stuck around town for college, huh?” Flash said. “Sucks to be broke, I hear. And that hot girlfriend of yours is out at some fancy school in Cali, right?”</p>
<p>Peter grimaced. “We’re just friends now.” </p>
<p>Flash laughed. “Aw, man that sucks. Women.” He rolled his eyes. “They’re so classist, only wanna be with guys who have prospects.”</p>
<p>Peter was clenching and unclenching his teeth, fists, anything that clenched, really, as he tried to think of something to say. </p>
<p>Just then, Steve rounded the corner. “Hey, Peter, Tony called. He needs you back at the Tower, wants your advice on something.” </p>
<p>Since Tony had never asked for anyone’s advice, ever, let alone Captain America’s marketing intern, Peter knew instantly that Steve was being protective. With anyone else, he might have minded, might have resented the implication that he couldn’t stand up for himself. But Steve’s heart was in the right place. </p>
<p>And Flash’s jaw was on the floor. “Is that… are you… Captain America?” He squeaked.</p>
<p>“He tends to prefer his name, Steve.” Peter said.</p>
<p>“Well, that’s what I ask my friends to call me.” Steve grinned. “Peter, old pal.”</p>
<p>Wow, Steve should not go into espionage, Peter thought. Steve had no chill. But it seemed to be going over well with Flash. </p>
<p>They checked out as quickly as possible, because Flash was tailing them, telling awkward stories with brand names and C-list celebrities inserted in every-other sentence. </p>
<p>“You still have my number, right, Peter?” Flash shouted as Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door.</p>
<p>“We all got the beta of the next-next edition Starkphone, it wiped all our contacts, you might want to look him up on Facebook!” Steve shouted back before dragging them both around the corner.</p>
<p>“Steve!” Peter was panting, half laugher and half out of breath. “That’s not nice.”</p>
<p>Steve frowned. “Insulting MJ in order to insult you was just too much to bear quietly.”</p>
<p>MJ again, huh? Suddenly, the situation seemed less funny. “Yeah, well, my Facebook is going to be blowing up tonight. That guy is loud, even online.”</p>
<p>Steve shrugged. “It’s public record that you work for us, just not what you do. Tony won’t care.”</p>
<p>“Or he’ll expand upon it, make the story really good.”</p>
<p>“That… is also a possibility, yes.” Steve rolled his eyes. “In some ways he’s so much like his father, but even smarter. In other ways, it’s a miracle he’s survived to be his age.”</p>
<p>“There are a lot of people in your Tower who are lucky to be so old, given the risks you guys take.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess by that metric I’m win—“</p>
<p>Suddenly, Peter’s senses focused only on the sound of a tinkling charm. A collar, a cat collar, behind them in the road. Without thinking, Peter dropped his groceries and lifted Steve off the ground, throwing them both into the alley on their left.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“NING! What the…” Steve cried, pushing at Peter’s arms as they heard the crunch of collapsing metal and shattered windshields.</p>
<p>Peter and Steve turned back toward the mouth of the alley where a sedan had run onto the sidewalk and embedded itself into the store they’d been standing beside. Peter replayed what happened in his mind, trying to piece it together: the cat had crossed the street toward their side of the road, causing the truck on the far side of the street to swerve into the other lane and the oncoming car had run onto their sidewalk instead of hitting an oncoming truck.</p>
<p>There was a man stuck behind the wheel of the sedan and Steve met his eyes as if to say “We’re discussing this later” before they scrambled to free him. </p>
<p>The store had been a restaurant, thankfully closed on Mondays, and the portion he’d hit was single story. The driver’s airbag had deployed, so it was possible this accident had caused no serious injuries. They deflated the airbag. </p>
<p>“Are you alright, sir?” Steve was leaning down to talk to the driver. </p>
<p>The driver’s nose appeared to be broken but his eyes eventually focused on Steve. “I’m fine… fine, I think, but” The man’s eyes widened, and he spun around, wincing as his neck hurt. “Nina! Nina are you okay, darling?”</p>
<p>There was a laughing gurgle from the backseat. A chubby toddler was safely tucked into a child’s seat.</p>
<p>The driver looked back at them. “I’m so glad you moved, I’m so sorry. There was no time to decide and I wished I had buckled Nina in on the other side cause then she’d have been safe. But then, thank God, then you moved away…” The man started crying.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Steve whispered. “You did the right thing, you protected her.” </p>
<p>Peter called for an ambulance and they said they were already on their way. Steve called the driver’s sister to let her know he’d been in an accident, he seemed to have mild injures but wasn’t in danger, and that Nina was fine. Crying, she said she’d join them at the hospital. </p>
<p>Peter and Steve stayed with the driver until the paramedics arrived and he told them all about Nina, who was his sister’s first child, the light of her life after trying for years to have a kid. Peter played with Nina so she wouldn’t worry, and Steve nodded at all the appropriate parts of the man’s story. </p>
<p>When the EMTs pulled up, one addressed him as Captain. “Are you a police officer?” The driver asked.</p>
<p>Steve laughed. “Something like that.” And everyone grinned as Nina squealed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Passports aren't optional, Tony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time they got back to the Tower, it was nearly time to go home. Peter hesitated at the bottom of the elevator. </p>
<p>Steve said, “Call your Aunt May and tell her you’re going to be late, we need to ta…”</p>
<p>“Attend my surprise bachelorette party? Gee! I’m so shocked!” Darcy shouted from across the lobby. She was already wearing a crown of glitter dicks, a sash that read “Too Late, Boys!” and a pair of loud pink rhinestone sunglasses that might have been part of her costume, or just part of Darcy’s regular wardrobe. It was hard to tell.</p>
<p>“You’re getting married?” Peter said. “To… who?”</p>
<p>“Whom.” Steve said, and Peter glared.</p>
<p>“Rude!” Darcy said as she joined them by the elevators. “There were many candidates, over the years, you know.”</p>
<p>“But… these days do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“If you must know,” Darcy sniffed in an elegant manner, “My fiancee is a political target. This is a protest wedding.”</p>
<p>“A what?” Steve asked.</p>
<p>“I could explain, but I’m going to need this much vodka first.” And Darcy whipped out a silver bowl.</p>
<p>“Is that the Stanley Cup?” Asked Peter.</p>
<p>Darcy nodded as they stepped into the elevator. “But just the top portion.”</p>
<p>“There’s a story there…” Peter said.</p>
<p>“Vodka first.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>Peter called his Aunt May to tell her he was going to stay overnight at the Tower, which went over like a lead balloon. She started listing a dozen things that could go wrong, how to protect himself, to turn on a voice recorder… at some point Peter tuned her out, looking over at the others laughing and dancing around Tony’s gigantic kitchen. </p>
<p>Natasha and Clint were already playing some sort of knife dexterity game similar to stab scotch but with the other person’s hand. So maybe Aunt May had a point, no pun intended.</p>
<p>“I’ll be careful.” Peter said. “I promise.”</p>
<p>Aunt May sighed. “Sorry, you’re an adult now; you know I just worry.”</p>
<p>“I love you, Aunt May. I’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>“Love you, too, Peter.”</p>
<p>And then they all piled into a limo and Peter didn’t ask where it was headed until they ended up at a gigantic hospital-themed strip club in what looked to be an old sanitarium lit like a rave and he realized there was no way they’d let someone under 21 inside.</p>
<p>Tony and Steve seemed to realize this at the same time that Peter did. </p>
<p>Steve volunteered to sit in the limo with Peter and Tony called to get the Quinjet refueled and flightpathed and to get JARVIS to book “something lavish” out in Toronto. Then he skipped inside to make sure everyone ordered as much as possible as soon as possible since they’d be leaving within the hour.</p>
<p>Happy was in the front seat, but he seemed uncomfortable. Peter wondered if he could also the tension floating between the two men in the back, or if it was all his imagination and Steve was perfectly unaware. </p>
<p>Their driver didn’t make eye contact in the rear view mirror and stammered out an explanation—that he wanted to listen to the new Tool album loudly and put the partition up. Unfortunately, that gave Steve the privacy he needed for his interrogation.</p>
<p>“So what was that today?” Steve sat on one of the long bench seats on either side of the limo, toward the back where Peter was sitting facing the partition. Steve’s hands were neatly folded in his lap, fingers laced as if to keep them from fidgeting. </p>
<p>“You mean…”</p>
<p>“I mean the part of the day where you anticipated a car wreck, lifted me, and threw us both into an alley before I even knew what was going on.”</p>
<p>“I’m guessing you’re not going to believe me if I say interns can supernaturally channel a force similar to beginner’s luck.”</p>
<p>It was a bad joke, but Steve gave a weak smile anyway. “No, I’m not going to accept that answer.”</p>
<p>Peter sighed. “I kind of lied on my application.”</p>
<p>Steve looked like he had mental whiplash. “What? What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“I’m not Spiderman’s PR guy. I’m Spiderman myself.”</p>
<p>“No.” Steve shook his head, frowning as if he couldn’t believe it. “I mean, you’re not…”</p>
<p>Peter felt adrift, a little frantic. “Not what? A vigilante? Crazy? Violent?”</p>
<p>“That too, actually.” Steve sighed. “We’ve all read the Daily Bugle’s opinion, I’m sure, but even back in the 30’s that paper was worth more before the text got printed on it.”</p>
<p>Peter snickered.</p>
<p>“But I was gonna say…” Another deep sigh. “I figured Spiderman had to be a little… older.”</p>
<p>Peter thunked his head against the leather seats. This was just not his day. If he’d have ever dreamed that he’d be out at night with Steve Rogers, alone in the back of a limo together, he never would have imagined it going this way. Sexy setup, sure, but this was shaping up to be a decidedly unsexy lecture about taking risks at too young an age.</p>
<p>Even if Steve didn’t see him as a vigilante or a criminal, Peter would always be a child in his eyes.</p>
<p>He thunked his head again.</p>
<p>“So why Stark Industries?” Steve’s face was in profile now, lit by the floor lights of the limo. He seemed to be  staring at the built in bar across from him, but Peter could feel eyes flick over to watch him once in a while.</p>
<p>Peter tried to explain. “Aunt May isn’t making too much more than rent on her apartment, taxes, and groceries, and yet she still tries to send me money at school.”</p>
<p>Steve nodded.</p>
<p>Peter continued. “I have summers off, but part time jobs don’t pay well or give you good experience and interns don’t generally get paid much outside of technical roles.”</p>
<p>“If I had gone into programming, like MJ, become the kind of techie that picks up Golang in a weekend for fun, there would have been hundreds of roles that could have helped Aunt May with rent. But in marketing? There was just this one. I had to get it.”</p>
<p>Steve nodded. “So you had to stand out?”</p>
<p>“Yup.” Peter exhaled loudly, somewhere between a bitter chuckle and a sigh. “And what better way than to already have experience with superheroes?”</p>
<p>“So you became a superhero in order to get an internship.”</p>
<p>Peter’s eyebrows snapped together. “No, of course not, that would be dumb. But I did start to step out into the limelight. I’d been keeping to shadowed alleys mostly. I didn’t know that by taking flashy pictures for my application my own former boss at the Bugle would come down on me, hard.”</p>
<p>Steve frowned. “So this internship caused you to be vilified across the country as a murderous and unstable vigilante.” He looked sad. “It really hasn’t been worth it.” His interlaced fingers were moving, practically being wrung, and he turned to look at Peter.</p>
<p>They stared at each other, a long silence hanging in the car. Was that—an unspoken question? Was Captain America fishing?</p>
<p>Peter had suffered once Spiderman became the vigilante everyone loved to hate. Sure, this internship was making life easier for Aunt May, but really, Steve should be right. This should have been an incredibly poor decision. The sacrifice should have been far more costly than the reward.</p>
<p>But…</p>
<p>But here he was, staring at Captain America, into Steve Roger’s blue eyes, watching the tense expression on his face. Watching guilt and sadness (and could that be a little hope?) at war within Steve.</p>
<p>And all Peter wanted to do was shout, “No! It’s been worth it! 100% So, so worth it.”</p>
<p>…But there was no way. That spark of hope was definitely his own wistful imagination projecting. </p>
<p>Steve might be feeling guilty, but he wasn’t looking to hear that his underage temporary intern with a bad reputation and a shitty GPA was hopelessly in love with him. Peter wracked his brain for a reason other than infatuation that might explain loving this job. </p>
<p>He wasn’t finding one.</p>
<p>Luckily, there was a tap at the window. Steve broke their staring contest out of muscle memory, eyes flicking over the site, checking for hostiles and security vulnerabilities. </p>
<p>A waiter called into the limo to say that Tony was gathering everyone because the Quinjet had nearly arrived. Happy thanked the man and opened their door. Peter breathed a sigh of relief as Steve got out of the vehicle, his jaw still tense. Saved by the bellhop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the Quinjet, Tony shouted to the group. “Looks like the groom will be joining us in Toronto!”</p>
<p>Everyone squealed in joy, but Darcy nearly dropped the Stanley Cup, sloshing alcohol everywhere. Peter wasn’t certain, but it looked a little like a flash of panic had crossed her face. But Natasha leaned over to show the future bride something on her phone and the moment was gone.</p>
<p>Peter had thought about slipping into a seat further from Steve but it had seemed awkward. So now their shoulders were brushing and hadn’t made eye contact in ten minutes.</p>
<p>“Two minutes until touch-down!” Tony shouted, and Steve sighed.</p>
<p>It sounded like relief. Peter would be offended, but that would be a bit hypocritical. He could really use some distance, a quiet place to think about his increasingly unprofessional feelings for the older man who now knew his deepest secret.</p>
<p>But tonight was not that night.</p>
<p>They landed and waiting for them in the grass of an open field, lit from behind by what looked like the neon lights of a traveling carnival, was a dark and handsome man in a Toronto Maples jersey. The crowd descending from the plane started whooping.</p>
<p>“Bucky?” Steve said, his voice catching.</p>
<p>Bucky reached out to Steve, and the two men grasped hands, staring into each other’s eyes in the darkness. Bucky’s face was shadowed but the carnival lit Steve’s pale features and he glowed like an angel, Peter couldn’t help thinking. His stomach was twisting in knots watching the two men nearly embrace.</p>
<p>But Bucky dropped to one knee and everyone gasped.</p>
<p>Briefly erasing his constant wicked smile, Bucky stared up at Steve soulfully. “Steve,” he cleared his throat, as if nervous. “Would you do me the honor of…”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Peter stepped closer, leaning in to hear better, and he felt his fists clench.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. "You have 3 days to repatriate the carneys."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Bucky dropped to one knee in the grass of a random field in Toronto, everyone had gasped.</p>
<p>The man in the Toronto hockey jersey stared up at Steve with an expression almost too loving for a man who made a living beating up other men while wearing ice skates. “Steve,” he cleared his throat, as if nervous. “Would you do me the honor of…”</p>
<p>Peter felt his fists clench.</p>
<p>“Being my best man?” </p>
<p>Everyone’s gaze whipped toward Steve in shock. What? This wasn’t a proposal? But…</p>
<p>Steve was on the verge of cracking up, but he played along. “Have I ever said no to you, Bucky?”</p>
<p>Despite the heavy bromance overtones, the acting felt overtly platonic, the homoeroticism borne out of comfort and nearly a century of being whispered about behind their backs. Peter’s head was reeling. The Internet was wrong. There was no Stucky. </p>
<p>What? How was that even possible?</p>
<p>Darcy tried to hip-check Steve, but it took a second for Steve to realize he should play as if she’d been able to move him, and the delay was funny on its own. “Stop touching my man, you blond hussy.” But she grinned. “I’m gonna forgive you because you’re gonna make that tux look way better than any of the other Avengers, and I want good wedding photos.”</p>
<p>Bucky was back on his feet, his mouth pinched. “Yeah, everything’s got to be just right for the Russians.”</p>
<p>Darcy had been about to continue but she stopped, quickly closing her mouth. Neither Steve nor Bucky seemed to notice as Steve congratulated them both.</p>
<p>“It’s a marriage of convenience.” Bucky said. “The hockey camp for disadvantaged youth I run in Russia every summer got in trouble for trying to protect two of my best players from the authorities. Young love is still a crime between two boys in plenty of places in the world. My offer to adopt them has been rejected since I’m single. So this saint right here offered to put up with my ass to save the boys.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, since being around it is such a sacrifice.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “There are Tumblrs devoted to Dat Bucky Butt.”</p>
<p>Steve’s eyes were flicking between Bucky and Darcy, clearly startled. “Oh, I thought…”</p>
<p>“That we’d suddenly fallen into True Love overnight, while I’m in another country either hitting the ice or pissing off governments and she’s in New York doing science to save the world?” Bucky smiled. “Yeah, no. You were always a romantic, Steve.”</p>
<p>Steve frowned, and even Peter saw it: both the bride and the groom were unhappy, despite the Unresolved Sexual Tension arcing between them like a live current.</p>
<p>Darcy broke the silence of their small circle, pointing at the carnival where the rest of the gang were already headed. “Let’s get drunk!” She thrust the Stanley Cup into the air, splashing Steve’s face with the contents. “Errr, drunk-ER. Sorry, Steve.”</p>
<p>“Hey, I’m best man!” Steve grinned and wrapped an arm around each of the couples. “It’s all part and parcel for the role. But let’s not forget Peter, who can only legally drink once he crosses the border.”</p>
<p>Bucky looked back then, his eyes flicking over Peter curiously. “Hey. You’re new.”</p>
<p>Peter trotted after the three of them. “Yeah I’m the marketing intern.”</p>
<p>“College student? 19?” Bucky frowned. “18?”</p>
<p>“Um.” Peter felt he was defending Steve suddenly. “I’m only two months away from 21, actually.”</p>
<p>Bucky looked slightly mollified but even after they entered the park, Peter’s Spidey senses didn’t calm down. </p>
<p>Despite all the revelry around him, and that they’d flown to Canada so he could drink, Peter stayed sober. It was hard to enjoy yourself with the constant, creeping feeling you were being watched from afar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aunt May hadn’t been too happy that he hadn’t returned home until 6 PM the following day. She said he reeked of alcohol and freshly cut grass, which wasn’t inaccurate. Spending all night in an impromptu carnival of drunken revelry in the middle of a field in GodKnowsWhere, Canada, would make you smell like that. It was a little hard to explain in the pretext of sleeping over at StarkTower, though.</p>
<p>He finally decided the truth was in order.</p>
<p>Telling the truth had turned out to be a mistake.</p>
<p>Still, he made it into work on time on Monday morning, despite the weekend being an unceasing lecture.</p>
<p>When the elevator doors opened in the lobby, Bucky was inside, waiting for him.</p>
<p>“Hi, friend.” Bucky grinned, all teeth, 100% threatening.</p>
<p>Peter sighed, and stepped into the elevator.</p>
<p>When Bucky opened his mouth, no doubt to start threatening him, don’t hurt Steve Rogers, he’s a teddy bear, or some other strange and highly inaccurate claim since Steve had muscles growing on top of muscles and could probably kill Peter by gripping his head with one hand like he was popping a basketball, Peter cut in.</p>
<p>“You might have missed this in 21st Century Training Class, but talking to someone in an elevator is automatic harassment, possible bonus charge of sexual harassment. And I’m on the clock. And I don’t want to hear it in general.”</p>
<p>Bucky blinked, but he settled back against the wall like he was reassessing Peter and maybe liked what he was seeing. Fucking over protective best friends. Probably just boosted 10x by that comrade in arms thing and then also again by only-other-person-who-remembers-the-depression-and-can-still-beat-me-at-a-game-of-pickup thing. Peter grimaced. If there really hadn’t ever been anything romantic between the two men it was kind of a miracle.</p>
<p>The doors opened and Tony was also in the living room, clearly angry about something.</p>
<p>“Apparently we have three days to repatriate the carneys.” He finished, speaking to Steve. </p>
<p>Steve was frowning. “How many are we looking for?”</p>
<p>“Fury said our return trip had an additional four passengers. Bucky is one, so that leaves two missing carneys.” Tony said.</p>
<p>“Two?” Asked Peter. “What kind of math are you doing there?”</p>
<p>Just then, Steve’s bathroom door opened and a beautiful woman emerged wearing an oversized Iron Man T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. She also had a balloon, and it bounced as she walked up to Tony and he slung an arm around her, grinning at Peter. The balloon read, “I’m engaged, but my friends are easy.” Of course. </p>
<p>“Thank you for letting me use your bathroom. Your soap smells amazing!” She gushed at Steve, vaguely sniffing at the back of her hand.</p>
<p>Steve grinned, clearly pleased. “It’s from Williams Sonoma, their Fleur de Sel line. I have some extra, if you’d like to take some home.”</p>
<p>Tony grumped. “I’m pretty sure they have Williams Sonoma in Canada, Steve.” But Steve was already running off to put together a gift basket, no doubt.</p>
<p>Bucky spoke up, “You know, Hawkeye won two giant stuffed animals at the fair.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, he’s a sharpshooter, that’s kind of his thing.” Tony was frowning at his conquest, who seemed to be swapping bath product recommendations with Steve. </p>
<p>Peter was taking notes. If Coke and Pepsi turned out as poorly as it was looking like they were gonna, maybe he should be reaching out to some do-gooder bath bomb companies or something. Fair trade, eco-friendly… that would be on-brand.</p>
<p>“But when he brought those massive stuffed animals onto the plane, they seemed a lot heavier than they should be. And one was giggling.”</p>
<p>Silence. For just a moment. “JARVIS!” Tony’s glasses flashed as a screen booted. Tony strode into his personal elevator, doors already open. “Where is Clint?”</p>
<p>“It appears that he and his two new companions have repurposed the Avengers sauna and recovery ice bath, sir.” The elevator doors closed on Tony swearing.</p>
<p>“He left?” Asked the beautiful woman, startled to be so suddenly forgotten. </p>
<p>Steve gallantly provided distraction. “Peter and I were going to perfect our peach cobbler today, do you bake at all?”</p>
<p>She practically squealed, but didn’t seem too interested in the actual cooking process, as much as laughing, commenting, and eventually documenting with her camera the unmitigated disaster that was Steve and Peter, and soon Bucky also, in the kitchen.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“Well if we’d wanted to keep accusations of human trafficking down, we probably shouldn’t have let the person we smuggled across the border for passionate but completely unpaid or otherwise coerced sex upload the world’s cutest superhero YouTube baking tutorial.” Tony sighed.</p>
<p>Pepper looked like she wanted to find Mjolnir and drop it on Tony’s head. “I had to double our emergency PR budget and extend our contract by another 12 months in order to keep our crisis management team after this. They’re embarrassed to be working with us, Tony. You embarrass people who make a living protecting celebutantes and pop tarts from embarrassing things.”</p>
<p>“There are no photos of me wandering the streets clutching a broken umbrella with a freshly shaven head, so it could be worse?”</p>
<p>“Your big defense is that you didn’t go Britney 2008?” Pepper shouted. “She’s still not legally her own guardian, 12 years later, Tony! How bad does this have to get before you take it seriously?”</p>
<p>Tony started to say something snarky in response. Peter was feeling really awkward about this conversation taking place in front of him, but Tony had shown up unexpectedly while Peter was cooking and Steve was replying to fan mail and Tony lingered, rambling about whatever came to his mind. At the time, they hadn’t realized Tony was hiding. But when Pepper showed up it was clear no place else had been safe.</p>
<p>Pepper cut him off again. “Tony, you’re in the middle of organizing a wedding to save two kids in Russia from being persecuted for being gay. We need Immigration to be on our side!”</p>
<p>Peter’s spatula clattered out of hand and against the metal stirring bowl loudly. But no one looked toward the noise, lost in the sudden realization that their hijinks were putting two innocent lives at stake.</p>
<p>“Shit.” Tony wiped at his goatee.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Said Pepper. “You have a meeting with the PR firm and Stark lawyers and a human rights legal group that’s going to feel very uncomfortable in that office so be sure to be on time and be nice to the scared-looking ones. Make this right, Tony.”</p>
<p>And she stormed off into the elevator, making the room feel darker and less electric in her absence. <br/> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was slightly delayed because I couldn't stand to draw Cap looking sad while Chris Evans was embarrassed by his Instagram Stories snafu. I feel pretty bad for him; it's not like I've never done something I instantly regretted! :(</p>
<p>Be safe on the Internet, gang. No faces in nudes, blur tatts and identifying scars/moles, use neutral backgrounds. Plausible deniability is your friend.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. An Unexpected Source of Butt-Saving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Peter and Steve were gathering the materials to finally take that LinkedIn picture silently. Peter’s mind was on the meeting that would be held in just a half hour about 10 stories down. From the wooden look on Steve’s face, Peter was guessing his mind was there, too. But neither man seemed to want to voice their fears out loud.</p>
<p>Peter had just gotten the final lamp plugged in and was directing Steve to sit down for light meter readings when Steve’s phone started blaring the long, low wail of Black Sabbath.</p>
<p>“Tony, huh?” Peter asked.</p>
<p>“How’d you know?” Steve went shuffling off to find the phone, which ended up being in another room. Peter didn’t have a chance to tell him the song’s name was Iron Man.</p>
<p>Steve walked back into the room quickly, “Okay, yeah, we’ll make tracks. I’m grabbing him now.”</p>
<p>“What’s up?”</p>
<p>“Tony said Pepper wants us at the meeting.”</p>
<p>“What? Why?” Peter set down the backdrop.</p>
<p>“Tony’s not clear on it either, but he think it might have to do with the YouTube video, since Pepper is finding Bucky, too.”</p>
<p>“Huh.” Peter looked down at his phone, but Steve grabbed his arm. It was meant to pull him along, but when Steve’s hand touched Peter’s forearm, skin to skin since Peter’d shoved up the sleeves of his henley, Steve went bright red. They both stared down at the contact.</p>
<p>Steve dropped his hand. “I think we need to be quick.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” He could check YouTube when they got upstairs. He’d seen it was getting a few views that first day but hadn’t checked since. But it had only been 24 hours or so, they’re couldn’t be too much traffic, right?</p>
<p>Wrong. He was very wrong. When they arrived in the conference room, it was abuzz. Around the oval table were the Stark Industries reps: Pepper, Tony, two executives/lawyers in black suits, and a stressed-out assistant trying to jot down everything they were shouting at each other. The three attractive people in bright but well-tailored suits were the PR firm, Peter guessed. </p>
<p>There were another two black suits sitting distant but still clearly together, saying nothing. One was sitting upright, had a pad of paper, a pen, a spare pen, a phone, and a reusable water bottle arranged geometrically on the conference table in front of him. The second man was rocking back in his chair, rolling his eyes and looking bored. He was as rumpled as the other man was starched, and seemed to delight in the way his coworker was trying not to watch his chair tip.</p>
<p>Government? Peter guessed. Maybe from immigration or something. Who was even in charge of a case like this? ICE?</p>
<p>And the last group was four young people sitting clustered together as if for safety. Their suits were shiny and ill-fitting and shades of brown. They looked like sparrows surrounded by hawks, their eyes nervously darting around the room between Tony and Bucky and Steve and even Darcy. Darcy might not be a superhero but she was shouting at Bucky loud enough that the group kept flinching, clearly worried that The Winter Soldier (TM) might snap. </p>
<p>Of course Steve made a bee line for them and introduced himself, shaking their hands and saying he was glad they had come. Peter agreed to take a group shot of them when one of the women asked.</p>
<p>“Wait.” She paused in handing him her phone. “You’re in the burnt muffin video, too!”</p>
<p>“Heh.” Peter faltered. “Yeah, I’m a Stark Industries marketing intern.”</p>
<p>“Marketing, huh?” One of the PR people was shouting across the table, a glimmer in her eye. “Did you sign an exclusivity or right of first refusal contract with them? That’s some great work you did with that video.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t m—“ Peter started to object, but Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulder first.</p>
<p>“Back off, Sheila, this one’s mine.” Tony was grinning, though, so Sheila smiled and relaxed into her chair. Tony turned to their little crowd. “I have a selfie stick. You want Iron Man in this shot, too, right?” He telescoped out a metal bar so quickly that Peter wasn’t quite sure where it had come from. His watch, maybe?</p>
<p>“And,” said the smallest of the four. “And could we invite Sargent Barnes, too?” The other lady grinned at her and the small one went beet red.</p>
<p>“Bucky!” Tony shouted. “You’re needed for a selfie!”</p>
<p>“And then we’re starting the meeting.” Pepper said, her soft voice still somehow carrying authority over all the echoing noise of the glass room.</p>
<p>“Sure thing, suga—Pep.”  Tony stumbled over his words a bit.</p>
<p>“Smooth, Tony.” Bucky said, jostling in next to the smallest non-profit worker, who now resembled a shaking cooked lobster. Her eyes stared up at him, her mouth slack. He looked down at her. “You like hockey, huh?”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“I’m from Toronto, I’m a huge Leafs fan, since I was a kid, I played in school, it paid for college, I’ve seen every game you’ve played in the Capital One Arena. You’re the best thing to happen to the Leafs since 1967 and…” She talked through all three of the photos and Bucky, politely, kept smiling down at her.</p>
<p>“Take your seats, everyone!” Pepper said, sitting at the head of the conference table, just below the projection screen.</p>
<p>“Thank you, thank you so much.” The woman said, eyes shining, as Tony handed back the phone and she stared down at the image. He and Bucky walked to the other side of the table, Tony just to the left of Pepper and Bucky next to a scowling Darcy. Steve and Peter sat between the government suits and the non-profit sparrows.</p>
<p>“First, I’d like to thank everyone for making the trek to Stark Tower today. I hope that you like tonight’s arrangements, you’ll find an itinerary in the red flagged section of your folders that will give you check in details and suggest a few restaurants locally where you can have a meal and up to two alcoholic beverages on us. The rest of the packet pertains to the more serious matter at hand.”</p>
<p>She started to say something but the starched-suited government agent raised his hand.</p>
<p>Pepper blinked. “Javier, did you have a question?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m sorry to interrupt but I think we have some good news for everyone. First, that all three individuals who illegally crossed the Canadian-US border were officially confirmed to be repatriated.” He paused, and Peter lifted his hands, as if to clap. Steve shook his head “no,” though, so Peter put his hands back in his lap.</p>
<p>“Second, the Russian consulate left our department a message late last night that may have rendered this meeting redundant. I’m sorry to say I was only conveyed this message less than a half an hour ago, not in time to cancel the meeting.” He paused again.</p>
<p>“What did the message say?” Asked Pepper.</p>
<p>“Russia has withdrawn its objection to the boys being adopted and, as an apology, offered to expedite the progress going forward.”</p>
<p>A happy murmur swept the room.</p>
<p>“What?” Tony burst out. “What changed?”</p>
<p>“The Russians made it clear that their initial fears had been allayed with added intelligence.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Tony said. “Could you have given less information in that long of a sentence?”</p>
<p>The rumpled agent snorted. “They watched YouTube, they know Cap and his Sarge aren’t gay for each other.”</p>
<p>Bucky cackled. Peter looked up at Steve and he had a wide grin across his face, shaking his head at Bucky. Bucky rolled his eyes, and Peter could read the wordless message being sent across the table: 70 years later, and we still get this shit.</p>
<p>“The baking tutorial was enough to convince the Russians that those two are platonic?” Tony asked. “I would think… it’s so painfully cute…”</p>
<p>“Actually,” the starched agent started to say, but again the rumpled one cut in, smirking at his partner’s obvious anger at being interrupted.</p>
<p>“The blonde Canadian woman uploaded a lot of footage from her adventure, you might want to go through it a bit later. I think the scene of interest to the Russians was actually from the night before that, at the carnival.”</p>
<p>Peter saw Bucky stiffen. Next to him, Darcy looked confused.</p>
<p>“The woman with the YouTube account and one of her coworkers were narrating an argument that broke out between the engaged couple when said couple began kissing and ducked into a tent used for costumes and storage. She kept her camera rolling and wandered around the Ferris wheel for 56 minutes before returning to her post, lunch break over. Her return perfectly captured the couple exiting the tent, slightly more disheveled.” He watched Bucky, grinning.</p>
<p>Both Bucky and Darcy were bright red.</p>
<p>“I imagine that the baking tutorial did also help in that it provided evidence that Captain America’s interest didn’t lie with Bucky, either.” And then he turned to Peter and winked. What? Peter’s eyes flew to Steve’s face, which was bright red. Steve seemed very engrossed in staring at the ceiling. </p>
<p>There was silence in the room for a moment. Peter’s mind raced. He needed to watch the video again. Was that guy saying….</p>
<p>“What are the next steps, then?” Pepper asked.</p>
<p>The smallest sparrow piped up. “If Russia no longer objects to the adoption, and if they do help on their end, we should be able to get this done quickly. Likely by the end of the month. We have the support of several Senators, from both parties, that have agreed to do what they can to reduce the normal time frame of such a thing.”</p>
<p>“Wow.” Tony blinked. “This was a pointless meeting. I hope everyone enjoys those drinks tonight. It’s on us, might as well have fun.” He shrugged.</p>
<p>“And, Ms. Lewis, I hope I’m not being rude but,” The woman smiled nervously. “You should be happy. You can probably delay the wedding and really plan something special now.”</p>
<p>“Delay the wedding?” Bucky asked.</p>
<p>The starched agent spoke up. “I agree with her assessment. The Russian objection was based on the erroneous assumption that Mr. Barnes was in a relationship with a man and since that impression has been dispelled a quick wedding is no longer necessary to ensure adoption.”</p>
<p>“We don’t have to get married?” Darcy asked. She seemed startled, but Bucky’s eyes snapped to Darcy then. Peter didn’t think he was imagining that Bucky looked stricken at Darcy’s words.</p>
<p>Steve was frowning, his back suddenly rigid as if he meant to leap over the conference table to protect his friend. So he wasn’t the only one thinking Bucky was hurt.</p>
<p>Well, damn. </p>
<p>The rest of the room had begun celebrating this win. The PR team was flipping through the portion of the folder with red flags and the rumpled agent was carefully moving his tape flags to the back of his coworker’s jacket every time his dreamy gaze stared focused on Pepper.</p>
<p>Tony was shaking Pepper’s hand and Pepper was shaking her head in disbelief. “You guys never fail to amaze me.” She said to Tony in a whisper. “Only the Avengers could make incriminating YouTube videos work for them.”</p>
<p>“This was hardly my most incriminating video.” Tony said.</p>
<p>“This one had the best results, though.” </p>
<p>Tony sputtered.</p>
<p>Peter Googled their video and saw that news articles were writing about the unusual YouTube record it had set, coming from an account no one had heard of to blowing up overnight. If you eliminated the first 28 hours after it was uploaded, it would beat any YouTube 24-hour upload record, and people were arguing whether or not some Korean boyband’s record still stood, since a Canadian video-rights issue had stunted the initial growth of their baking tutorial. </p>
<p>Wow, they’d caused some drama.</p>
<p>Bucky and Darcy stood at the same time, but both were stiff and they weren’t meeting each other’s eyes.</p>
<p>Yikes. It appeared they’d caused drama in more ways than one.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. That time Peter took a break and saved Dr. Doom's butt instead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>SHIELD called its first-ever emergency meeting about proper use of social media.</p><p>Phil had made a PowerPoint presentation of various digital blunders they’d made over the years and after reviewing the videos or tweets, they all had a packet of questions they were supposed to work through as a team to see how and where they’d gone wrong.</p><p>It was a lot like a post mission breakdown, but with added humiliation. </p><p>Peter had guessed the catalyst for this meeting was another Stark, Naked sex tape “surfacing” on the Internet. </p><p>But Peter was wrong. The final straw had been an otherwise-charming video of Steve visiting a 5th grade classroom in his Captain America uniform.</p><p>Until he stumbled over the Pledge of Allegiance. </p><p>That 15-second clip was on repeat on conservative news channels.</p><p>Coulson was unamused. “Steve, you’ve been awake for long enough to know the words to the Pledge of Allegiance.” He was rubbing at his temples, the outward display of emotion clearly grabbing Clint’s attention.</p><p>“In my day, we recited the Bellamy Pledge, if at all. There wasn’t anything about God, no one was required to say it, outside of Congress, maybe, and it was written by a socialist.”</p><p>Tony snorted. “Really, how long do you think you can milk this ‘Man Out of Time’ thing for?”</p><p>Steve shrugged. “It’s still has teeth, apparently.”</p><p>Peter chuckled but then his spidey senses tingled—Natasha was staring into his eyes with a look that shouted Now Is Not The Time. </p><p>Supposedly Natasha was 100% human, but her ability to read people or convey messages without words was uncanny. She had to be at least part psychic, right?</p><p>Coulson looked as if he was vibrating, possibly with rage, “Try not to let your soapbox crush our funding, okay? Please wait until after the SHEILD Congressional Budget Review to pull stunts like these.”</p><p>Tony pished, about to make a dismissive comment about the size of Congress’s—but Coulson’s eyes now turned to him. “Mr. Stark,” Tony tried to look unaffected by the man’s tone and sudden formal address, but he straightened in his chair reflexively, a clear tell. “you can not make TikToks during missions.”</p><p>Tony looked shocked. “Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna tell me that the Chinese are using it to spy on my phone, are you? I designed this thing, it’s unhackable!”</p><p>“They don’t need to hack your phone! You’re giving them a literal guided tour of our operations!” Coulson’s exasperation was making Clint eye the path to the door and therefore, his escape.</p><p>“Hey, it’s an alt account.”</p><p>“StonyTark? That’s how you go undercover?” Coulson’s hand grabbed at his pate and it became clear why he’d started thinning on top. “Hasn’t anything Natasha’s ever told you sunk in?”</p><p>Tony whined. “C’mon, have you seen the Star-Spangled kitchen YouTube? How am I supposed to compete with an All-American WWII superhero, his sex-on-a-stick Greatest Generation best friend turned professional athlete, and their handsome young guide to modern appliances? I can’t! Not on YouTube! I need to branch out and find my own platform.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not TikTok. Find something more... domestic.”</p><p>“Like knitting?” Tony raised an eyebrow, as if considering the potential of yarn.</p><p>“Like an app not owned by a country that’s breathing down our economic neck.”</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes and turned to Peter. “I blame you. You are doing too good a job. Did I tell you to be so good at your job? Jarvis, can I fire him?”</p><p>Jarvis spoke at the same time as Peter.</p><p>“Not if you don’t want him to be hired instantly by Ms. Shiela, sir.”</p><p>“I only have like 1 week left, Mr. Stark.” Peter said.</p><p>“Tony. I’m Tony.” He sighed. “Okay, you’re not fired and I’ll give you a monthly bonus for every month you don’t accept a job with Shiela’s firm, maxing out in, what, May? When do you graduate? Wait, wait. Hold up, you said a week? One week? As in, your 21st birthday is next Friday?”</p><p>Steve stiffened in the chair next to Peter.</p><p>Coulson frowned. “May I remind you, Tony, that your last major social event ended with an international incident and a broken engagement?”</p><p>“Hey, lightning never strikes the same place twice. There’s no way that can happen again. This is gonna be great, Peter. It needs a theme, though.” </p><p>“It does?” Peter’s head was spinning.</p><p>Coulson tried to steer the meeting back to social media discretion and a few SHIELD housekeeping announcements, but his request to only use hallways clearly designated as walkways to transverse the offices was quite literally falling on deaf ears. Clint had shut off his hearing aids when Tony started complaining about his reach on YouTube.</p><p>Tony had been scrolling through something on his Starkphone and suddenly he threw his hands in the air, phone clattering over the conference table like a poorly-executed mic drop. “I can’t win! Now someone’s cover of your song is trending!” Tony was addressing Steve, but clearly angry at Peter by extension, and perhaps even at the world in general.</p><p>“What?” Steve didn’t look terribly interested, though. If the meeting wasn’t about preventing something from exploding, his mind would start to wander. </p><p>“Star Spangled Man with a Pan, it’s like a you-montage ode to a cast iron skillet. How did they even have enough footage for this crap?” Tony was sputtering.</p><p>“There’s nothing more American than a well seasoned skillet, Tony.”</p><p>Peter stared at Steve, in awe of his epic snark. He had said that without any inflection, no smirk. Across the table, Natasha looked ever-so-mildly impressed. Peter really was attending too many Avenger meetings. He was beginning to understand their non-verbal communication.</p><p>“You! I am going to win this, Captain Butter Wouldn’t Melt in my Mouth.”</p><p>“Butter’s melting point is actually—“ Steve ‘well, actually-ed.’</p><p>“Don’t. Start. You’re going down, Cap, I’m gonna be the most viral. I have the most experience at this—but hey I wasn’t really taking this seriously—but now? You are in for a world of pain Mr. Old Glory Stars His Garters.”</p><p>Coulson made a choking noise. Clint whacked him on the back a few times, perhaps trying to be helpful.</p><p>Yeah, that was a pretty powerful image, Peter could sympathize. Steve in… garters. Like a patriotic Frank N. Furter with less lipstick and better hair. But his muscles would strain the...</p><p>“You know, the Internet contains all the knowledge in the known universe and yet humanity has chosen to turn it into a popularity contest. Tony, where are the flying cars?” Steve sighed.</p><p>Peter barely managed not to roll his eyes. Steve had him tracking all their stats, including engagement and retention. A good follower gain in their morning report would have him rubbing his hands in glee. Maybe it had been that stubborn drive to compete with Tony in all things—at the beginning. Now, Peter was less sure.</p><p>The meeting ended after another 10 minutes of Coulson being unable to maintain order. Steve turned to Peter, the excitement clear in his eyes. “You ready?” He whispered.</p><p>At times, Steve looked like a Golden Retriever. They did share some characteristics—intelligent, fiercely loyal, protective—and their 0-to-60 way of going from utterly bored to enthralled with excitement? 100% Steve Rogers. Peter felt his heart take its final gasp of resistance. Gone. It now belonged to Steve, completely. He stared at the blond man, saying nothing as his mind dealt with the sudden departure of his heart and the cavity it might be opening in his chest.</p><p>Steve prompted, “for the roof? Let’s go, I wanna see you in action.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Peter said, nodding. Trying to act like everything was copacetic. You know, like he hadn’t just fallen for a superhero Avenger WWII hero older stronger hotter man who was also kind of his boss for another five days. </p><p>“O-kay.” Steve tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”</p><p>“Wow.” Peter grinned, finally putting his body into motion. “You did not just say that.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The morning after their totally-not-a-date swinging over rooftops, Steve clinging to him, the New York sunset causing his hair to glow like a halo in a manner that was aesthetically appealing in completely platonic manner, Steve had gotten him coffee and an Apple Fritter from their favorite bakery.</p><p>“Hi.” Steve said in the same breathy tone he’d whispered goodnight a few hours before.</p><p>Peter squeaked. “Back at you. Thanks for the snacks.” He started to do finger guns but thankfully caught himself before extension so it only looked like he’d started to raise both hands and then suddenly changed his mind. Yeah, what a save. No way Steve noticed that spasm, since he doesn’t have super senses or anything.</p><p>Steve blushed a little. “I know it’s early, but I thought we could test some of the throwing moves you suggested last night? There’s a roof with a canopy that would keep helicopters from seeing us.”</p><p>“Yeah, we should do that, the whole you throw I catch thing.”</p><p>Steve blushed harder, his eyes widening.</p><p>“Shield!” He rushed to correct himself. “I’ll aim my blast to hit your shield.” ...with white rapidly hardening goo, Peter’s awful, awful excuse for a brain finished. Not aloud, thankfully.</p><p>But the shade Steve turned made him wonder if he had said it after all.</p><p>“The roof?” Steve pointed up.</p><p>“Let’s.” Peter nodded. And they didn’t make eye contact in the elevator at all.</p><p>Their practice didn’t go well as their communication was stifled by their inability to look at each other for too long, or finish coherent sentences. At one point, Peter misjudged the momentum of the rebounding shield and got dragged along with it after it was caught in his web. Captain America caught the shield and then him, Peter tumbling into Steve like a toppling bowling pin.</p><p>He was cradled under one of Steve’s arms, his hands grasping together behind his thick neck, listening and feeling his entire body move along with the air rushing in and out of Steve’s lungs. </p><p>Peter was a little too aware of how tight his pants had become. His heart was racing, and the look in Steve’s eyes, pupils wide and flicking between his eyes and his mouth as if Peter was the sun and Steve's gaze couldn’t find a place to land that didn’t burn.</p><p>JARVIS sounded an alarm. “Dr. Doom is approaching. He does not appear to be armed.”</p><p>Bucky ran out onto their roof suspiciously quickly. “Looks can be deceiving.” He growled.</p><p>Peter pushed away from Steve’s chest and Steve released Peter at the same time and the two men ended up ten feet apart, Peter on the ground. Both out of breath.</p><p>Bucky grinned. “Really?”</p><p>Tony had suited up and it was looking like their roof had become the logical rendezvous point. Natasha and Clint had appeared without a noticeable entrance, and Tony and his suit were hovering nearby. </p><p>“Wish he could have waited for Thor to show up.” Muttered Clint. “Thor really loves humiliating this guy for some reason, it’s like he’s enjoying a hobby.”</p><p>“Knitting?” Asked Tony eagerly.</p><p>Natasha raised an eyebrow.</p><p>But then Dr. Doom landed on their roof, looking sheepish.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing at Avengers Tower, Doom?” Asked Tony. “You know you haven’t been paying rent.”</p><p>“Would you believe I’m being blackmailed?” Victor Von Doom said, trailing off in an uncertain tone.</p><p>“Wait, are you asking if we believe that there’s any information, pictures, or video out there, of you, that you would rather the entire world not see?” Peter crossed his arms. Victor was a dick, couldn’t take no for an answer when Spidey turned him down, again and again. But today, Von Doom was using a different tone entirely. Guess Spider-Man’s secret identity was safe for another day.</p><p>“Uh, hi new guy. Yeah, that’s what I’m suggesting.” Victor said, the eyes behind the metal mask shining with hope.</p><p>“Nope. Nuh-uh. You like attention way too much for that, Doc.” Peter popped the p on nope.</p><p>Steve snorted.</p><p>Doom rubbed his hand behind his neck. “Okay, we can discuss how well you know me later, new guy, but… you guys remember Val?”</p><p>Peter shook his head but Steve cut in quickly “Val is Doom’s daughter or goddaughter, depending on the universe. She’s usually a pre-teen, when she’s not reduced in age by some accident to be a toddler again.”</p><p>Von Doom deflated a little, having drawn in a huge breath of air to start some droning explanation, no doubt with far too much detail.</p><p>“How is this relevant to us?” Asked Natasha. </p><p>Peter was glad the rest of the Avengers hadn’t let down their guard. Sooner they got Vic the Dick out of here, the better.</p><p>“Well, she’s... that age, you know, and she doesn’t have many people to confide in that are as intellectually superior as we are and... she told me some things in confidence and though I meant it in a very supportive way...” He sighed. “I kind of said she was just going through a phase, and she won’t talk to me now. At all. She devised a very clever lock to her bedroom door that I have yet to break.”</p><p>“Oh, ouch.” Peter grimaced.</p><p>“Ya fucked that one right up, Doom!” Bucky said cheerfully.</p><p>“Anyway, besides which forms of body modification might disrupt persistent homology, you guys are all she talks about.” Doom looked at the floor. “I was hoping you would upload an apology video for me. If it’s on your channel, I know she’ll see it.”</p><p>Bucky cackled from some lounge chair he’d draped himself over. “Doesn’t that beat all, Steve? Your greatest power as Captain America is now your social media influence!”</p><p>“That’s it. I hate you all. I’m going to go slam the door to my penthouse and refuse to leave for a few days, blaring my angsty music and wishing someone understood me.” Tony flew away.</p><p>“Dr. Erskine is probably rolling in his grave...” Steve rolled his eyes, but his posture relaxed.</p><p>“So, you’ll help?” Peter suspected that Dr. Doom’s eyeballs were unusually visible because he was attempting puppy eyes behind his mask. Which rendered it pretty ineffective, so he was lucky Steve was a softie.</p><p>He sighed. “Yeah, sure, let’s do this.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Valeria, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said you were going through a phase. Sometimes when I look back at myself at your age I think about how confused I was about my place in the world and my identity—feeling so uncertain and questioning everything about myself when in reality I was always destined for greatness—I was trying to reassure you that you’ll figure it out, all of it, who you are and what you feel... pronouns? All of that—it’ll be okay, better, easier eventually. But I don’t ever want you to feel that something like your sexuality or gender or name could ever make me love you less. Nothing could—well, nothing short of putting on a cape to join the Avengers—nothing will ever change that you’re my daughter. Except alternate realities—but in every single reality, Val, I love you, very much. So keep studying so we can take over the world together.”</p><p>“Well, I did tear up at one point during that little speech, but it’s also mildly horrifying.” Pepper said, as Coulson played the YouTube video again for the entire team in exasperation.</p><p>“Do you think Val will buy it?” Clint asked, mostly to Natasha.</p><p>She shrugged. “She’s a smart kid, she already knows Doom’s ability to care about things not physically attached to his body is stunted. So she’ll see just how out of character and painful it was for him to make this grand gesture, even if what he said was kind of...”</p><p>“A shitshow?” Bucky said, looking up from texting someone.</p><p>“That’s an excellent summation, Barnes.” Coulson said. “Given the tenuous nature of our diplomatic efforts with the Nation of Wakanda and how much pressure its King has placed on us to start a one-way extradition policy JUST for Dr. Doom, why would you let him upload a video to YouTube?” A vein in Coulson’s forehead was visibly throbbing, the only testament to his nearly unprecedented display of rage. Clint was sliding his chair behind Natasha slowly.</p><p>“What, you think he encoded a secret message in that?” Tony asked, studying the YouTube page.</p><p>Natasha shook her head. “None, I already checked.”</p><p>Bucky cackled. “They’ve already made a weird fan video about it, reworded some song by a 90’s boyband, ‘As Long as you Love Me?’”</p><p>“You mean the Backstreet Boys.” Tony corrected, too quickly. Pepper’s mouth thinned in displeasure.</p><p>Peter looked at Steve, who picked up his Starkphone.</p><p>The text Peter got from Steve read:</p><p>Tony’s always had a thing for one of the Backdoor Boys. Kevin is married, a father, super straight, and although Tony gave up on pursuing him more than a decade ago, Pepper recently discovered a drawer full of memorabilia he’d kept. Bucky swears he had a lock of Kevin’s hair in a bag.</p><p>Wow, okay. That was more than he wanted to know about Tony. Without thinking he typed back:</p><p>BackSTREET Boys</p><p>And Steve blushed.</p><p>“Right, Captain Rogers?” Coulson turned toward Steve for backup.</p><p>“I’m sorry, what?”</p><p>“No more social media. Not this week. I don’t want to hear one tweet from any of your accounts until I have this handled with Wakanda. Not one.”</p><p>“Our debrief about tomorrow night’s mission will start at ten AM. I would like to remind some of you that ten AM is a time before noon, so prepare in whatever manner you need to be well rested by that ungodly hour.” He frowned. “This run shouldn’t take long but we have some conflicting intelligence we should cover just in case.</p><p>He leaned in then, meeting everyone’s eyes individually with a cold, dead stare. “No. TikToks.”</p><p>The door closed slightly more loudly than usual behind him. Coulson was more intimidating that anyone without superpowers should be. Clint was now actively hiding behind Natasha and even Tony looked appropriately abashed. Though that might be due to Pepper’s face, which rivaled Coulson’s at the moment.</p><p>Until Tony spoke.</p><p>“A week?! Peter, your 21st pirate-themed birthday bonanza is THIS Friday!”</p><p>Though it hadn’t seemed possible before, Pepper’s faced bloomed an even deeper red of controlled rage.</p><p>“Pirates? And why would we need Twitter for that?” Peter, marketing intern, was still lost at the connection.</p><p>“Twitter?” Tony made a pish-noise. “It was going to be the soft-launch for Yarrrr, the new Stark Industries backed short-form video platform.”</p><p>“Weren’t so popular on TikTok, huh, Tony?” Bucky laughed.</p><p>“Consider it my nod to national security. Go America. Yay hegemony?” Tony said.</p><p>“Yarr?” Steve looked confused.</p><p>“Pirate noise. Four R’s though, but that way I got the dot-com. Yar-dot-I-O felt very 2018 cryptocurrency-bubble, don’t you think? Like all those startups that had “e-r” ends without the “e?” Flickr, Tumblr, oh, Twttr, too! Sounded cool at the time, now it’s, like, so passé.”</p><p>Steve still looked confused.</p><p>“You see, Steve, a pirate theme opens the door for booty jokes.” Bucky patted him on the shoulder as he stood to leave. “RIP to Steve’s pasty face on Friday, he’ll be blushing like a tomato all day, calling it now.”</p><p>Everyone started for the door then, but Pepper said, “Tony.” and he paused just long enough for everyone to enter the elevator Jarvis had waiting before that little discussion began to echo through the halls.</p><p>“Or, RIP Tony’s booty, actually.” Bucky reflected.</p><p>And even Natasha snorted, just a little.</p><p> </p><p>When Peter arrived early on Monday morning, the team wasn’t yet back from their mission. JARVIS played him a few interesting podcasts and he decided to catch up on the millions of emails Captain America’s Marketing Guy had started receiving. He had at least 20 profuse apology emails from the Coca-Cola Corporation alone. The executives were about two emails away from volunteering to right their dishonor with seppuku in the courtyard.</p><p>So issues like “how to I politely tell Coke that ritual sacrifice is not required and yet Cap will never agree to work with them ever again?” Kept him busy for hours before Peter realized it was beginning to grow dark.</p><p>“How is it past seven already?” Peter asked, scrambling for his phone to text Aunt May.</p><p>“I mentioned the time several points throughout the day and you replied with logical full-sentences, so I assumed you had heard me. In the future I will double check with a few of the protocols I use with Sir.” JARVIS said.</p><p>Peter suddenly pictured trumpets and elephants and speakers at loud rock concerts. “Go easy on me, JARVIS, at least the first time, ok?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Aunt May had been worried but when Peter mentioned that Steve was late and had never showed, she seemed to worry more.</p><p>“Is that normal?” She texted. “Do they often run late on missions?”</p><p>Peter frowned. “A lot less often than you’d think. The team cracks jokes about Natasha knowing how long each task will take. Like that she does the same things as everyone else, but with a stopwatch in her hand.”</p><p>Aunt May didn’t reply right away and when she did, Peter felt his first inkling of fear. “Well, if you need to use that spare toothbrush tonight, I would understand.”</p><p>“Is this bad, JARVIS?”</p><p>“It’s too soon to tell.”</p><p>“But it’s not good, right?” Peter’s limited technical experience told him to narrow his pool of options.</p><p>JARVIS hesitated, a second of silence uncharacteristic for the world’s greatest artificial intelligence. “No, Peter, it’s not good.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Uh, so I really should write an outline prior to starting a story or it begins to get a little random. I'm sorry this has taken so long but I had written myself into a corner and this chapter mostly just digs me out of it. Two chapters left, I'm thinking. Thanks for sticking with me.</p><p>I think you're going to enjoy Peter's next rescue.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Bonus: Man With A Pan Lyrics</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And for Valentine’s Day/Lunar New Year (gongxifacai/gungheyfatchoy!) here’s a little bonus content...</p>
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    <p>The Star-Spangled Man With a Pan lyrics, taken from YouTube<br/>(Song takes a call and response form, so the lines in parentheses are shouted back at the singer and not part of the original melody)</p><p> </p><p>He’s strong and brave and stands for the American Way<br/>(We could watch him all day!)</p><p>He’s now here to bake like a man hot meals all night and day<br/>(Frilly aprons don’t make you gay!...)</p><p>He will make apple pie vlogs for America<br/>(But an intern like Peter may!)</p><p>Carry his cast iron Lodge for America<br/>(For this mention Lodge did not pay!)</p><p>From the home of Iron Man<br/>(That tower with the big “A”)</p><p>The Star Spangled Man with a Pan!<br/>(Please don’t sue me, yay!)</p><p>P.S. - Since the video is 100% clips of Steve and Peter and never shows the singer, in my head, it’s Deadpool.</p>
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